


The Harpist

by arobynsung



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arobynsung/pseuds/arobynsung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not any better; she plays him just the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Harpist

Fools.

They don't see it, they never see it.

She plays them like a master harpist, with the pluck of each string committing them to the rise of her star. She smiles and lowers her eyes, the consummate coquette, and they delude themselves into thinking she's beneath them. As she turns away, a mollifying smile, a vague excuse and goodbye as she goes to her next victim, they murmur and giggle with vitriol thinking themselves superior as they shoot sidelong glances.

But they _do _look. They can never turn away. Bodies angle to face her, wherever she is in the room. Her name is on their lips, her smile in their eyes, and she's successful. She's won.

He'd like to tell himself that he's better, stronger. He sees her game, recognizes it for what it is.

But he looks, and he always smiles back. He's every bit under her spell, he just suffers the knowledge of it.

Her eyes find his, some excuse, a smile, and she leaves her latest victims to glide towards him. Her fingers flex around the cut crystal glass in her hands, tensing for the next piece she'll play.

"Minister Shacklebolt, what a pleasure to have you attend my little party."

He kisses her hand, mindful of danger but helpless against it.

"Lady Malfoy, the pleasure's mine."


End file.
